


Good Business

by ElizaBethmWritesCrap



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Business AU, CEO Zarkon, F/M, Lawyer Haggar, VLD Rarepair Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:06:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElizaBethmWritesCrap/pseuds/ElizaBethmWritesCrap
Summary: Zarkon takes a break from plotting against Voltron Corp to appreciate his loyal right hand. Haggar allows herself to enjoy a night free of the corruption she knows will soon consume the one she loves.





	Good Business

**Author's Note:**

> My gift to Syd for the Rarepair Exchange! Hope you like it! ♥  
> This may very well end up being a series, because while planning I kept getting ideas for the rest of this AU world. While Zaggar was Syd's main request for a ship, they had included a LOT of secondary ships, and if this does turn into more I plan on using most of those ships for the AU. Keep an eye out!

With a wave of his hand, Zarkon dismissed the board of directors and senior executives that had gathered, and Haggar watched in disgust as those lesser men fled from the meeting room, the tails of their beyond expensive suits tucked between their legs. They were all pathetic amateurs compared to Zarkon, who stood proud at the head of the table, as he had all day. Even now, after hours of ruthless planning and discussion between his executives and Haggar’s team of lawyers, Zarkon’s black suit was immaculate and pristine. Both of them waited until every soul was out of the room and the doors had been closed before Hagger moved to Zarkon’s side. She watched him sit, with all the primal grace of a predator, before finally allowing his broad shoulders to relax.

“The Voltron Corporation is within our grasp.” Zarkon exhaled, closing his eyes and rubbing them gently, “Have your team carry out what we planned.”

“The board of directors voted against that,” Haggar stated, moving behind Zarkon’s chair as she spoke, “Shall I ensure that it is carried out off-record?”

“Yes-ssssssss…” hearing Zarkon’s voice trail off into a hissed sigh of contentment as Haggar delicately placed her hands on his shoulders was positively gratifying. The man looked exhausted, which meant that he would actually let Haggar take care of him tonight. Haggar smiled to herself; it had been a while since he had sought her refuge.

“I shall take care of everything, Sir.” Though her words were whispered, they still sounded loud within the large, empty room. Working her fingers into the tightened shoulder muscles and down Zarkon’s spine, Haggar let herself selfishly take in the rare sight; Zarkon’s head was loose and rolling with her movements, content written on his face and pleased noises coming from his throat. She moved her hands to his neck, easing the tense muscles there before placing a kiss at the base and letting her nose tickle his skin. Zarkon shivered into her touch, and the power her hands had over him sent a thrill through Haggar’s core. She could not help but let out a disappointed sigh when he made a sound that indicated for her to stop.

“Send the details to your Senior Statesman, and let him handle the preparations. You need not look them over for execution until the morning.” Zarkon’s statement was final and commanding, and Haggar nearly dropped the phone she had been typing said details into at his words. Though she swore she had not heard right, Haggar knew better than to ask Zarkon to repeat himself. Still, he had not purposefully postponed her work since… since she was first hired as his personal assistant, back when he would sneak glances at her and give her smoldering smiles whenever their eyes met.

Her hesitation was clear, and Zarkon noticed, rising from his chair and towering over her.

“Unless,” he stated slowly, eyes traveling down Haggar’s tailored dress suit before firmly catching her gaze, “you would rather work until dawn instead of coming home.”

A smirk made its way onto Haggar’s face as she watched her boss and lover stare at her with such authority. With a hum, she pretended to think it over, noticing that, although Zarkon knew her well enough to call her bluff, the consideration was making him impatient.

“Of course, Sir.” She said at last, finishing the emails she had begun and sending it off, “whatever you desire.”

Such simple words, meant to instill devotion and loyalty, yet Zarkon’s sudden smile and gentle caress of her cheek told of his understanding that Haggar’s devotion went so much further than simply business. Without a word, Zarkon turned and strode out of the room, Haggar following him silently.

The car was waiting for them in the same place as always, and Haggar gave the limo a critical once over while Zarkon entered the vehicle, ensuring that the driver was keeping up with expectations. Once she had lowered herself into her seat as well, the car sped off with barely a sound, and she was alone with Zarkon once more. Taking a bottle of champagne from the fridge and opening it with practiced ease, Zarkon poured two flutes full of the clear, sparkling liquid before holding one out for Haggar to take. She did so, smiling into the liquid as she waited for Zarkon to take the first sip. Over the past month, Zarkon had been so overwhelmed with his plans to take over Voltron that he had not touched a drink, and it was a more than welcome occurrence to see him indulge himself once more.

“You look lovely in that skirt, my darling,” Zarkon drawled, his voice deep and smooth like the darkest of chocolate against her tongue. The sudden comment was surprising, but not unwelcome, and Haggar found herself unable to suppress the shiver that overcame her from hearing that deep baritone sound directed at her.

“You bought it,” was Haggar’s response, and Zarkon laughed for the first time in weeks. A shared smile between them communicated silently their shared opinion that Zarkon had impeccable taste when it came to professional wear. 

“You have done much for me, Haggar.” Once again Zarkon’s voice was caressing her ears, but this time it was being whispered close to her as Zarkon draped an arm across her shoulders. Bubbling champagne against her tongue was the only thing keeping Haggar from melting into a soft puddle of sounds.

“I will always be at your service, Sir.” Haggar tried to play coy, sipping her drink once more before placing the empty glass down, “It is my purpose to serve you well.”

“Mmm, that it is.” Zarkon was practically purring as his massive hand kneaded her shoulder, “You have always been the best at what you do.”

Compliments did not come lightly from Zarkon, and Haggar glowed with pride at his words. Though she knew without any doubt that she was incredibly skilled and typically harboured no false humility towards her success, it was still ridiculously gratifying to hear Zarkon say as such out loud. He often offered subtle praise towards her judgement and had, more than once, trusted her opinions over those of his other advisors, but such a direct statement was unusual.

As the limo waited for the gates of Zarkon’s city residence to open, he tightened his hold on Haggar’s shoulders and stole a quick sniff of her hair, pressing a kiss into her white locks and murmuring, “You smell like blackberries again.”

“It was your favourite scent of my shampoos.” Haggar mused, “I remember you telling me so in Tuscany.”

Zarkon let out an amused chuckle, eyes sparkling with the memories of that particular trip, “Yes, I did say that. I said a lot of things that night.”

“I remember.” Haggar let a real smile mar her serious features, “I was surprised that you were capable of saying such sweet words.”

“As was I.” Zarkon’s voice was quiet, and Haggar knew he was contemplating whether or not his ability to feel as such was an exploitable weakness. She needed to get his mind back on her if she wanted the night to continue on its current trajectory.

Running her fingertips along Zarkon’s thigh worked just as well as it always did; Haggar could feel the strong muscles flex beneath her touch, and Zarkon’s eyes were once more trained on her. It only lasted a moment before the car door opened and they both slipped on their professional masks, but it had gotten his attention. With any luck, he would invite himself into her room tonight; it had been so long since she had slept with his arms around her. Haggar had not realized just how much she missed the safety and comfort being held by Zarkon gave her.

Once they were behind closed doors, Zarkon firmly led Haggar into the dining room, where a quaint spread of appetizer dishes were on display, flanked by three bottles of wine. Haggar recognized her favourite, a white wine from Paris, and Zarkon’s favourite red, and immediately went for them. They drank together for many hours, stealing bites of food and lips before finally retiring to the bedroom. Laying there with her head still buzzing and her back warm against Zarkon’s chest, Hagger let herself believe, for just a moment, that her life could stay like this forever, unblemished by the rising rebellion of the real world just outside their window. Maybe, she thought foolishly, her love would be enough to save Zarkon from the black hole of obsession.

Come morning, logic would chase that dream from her mind, but for that night, Haggar let those thoughts rock her into a sound sleep.


End file.
